Truth And Consequence
by ErynLasgalen26
Summary: Estel learns the truth of his heritage, but what will the consequences be?
1. Truth

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Middle-earth, though I do thank J.R.R. Tolkien for creating this wonderful world. The characters and places are used for non-profit purposes only, so please don't sue me.

Author's Notes: I am not a Tolkien-expert nor do I claim to be one. Any errors that might occur in canon, language etc. are entirely my fault. Please feel free to point them out in a friendly manner, constructive criticism is welcome.

Additional A/N: Many of my stories and certainly my way of describing the characters' relationships are inspired by Cassia and Siobhan's wonderful "Mellon Chronicles".

I too work with the idea that both of Aragorn's parents died when he was young and he was therefore raised in the House of Elrond like a son and that Elladan and Elrohir are his older brothers by all but blood.

J.R.R. Tolkien did say that Aragorn "was raised in the House of Elrond", all else is just artistic license and I ask you to please not take offence in it. 

Aragorn is a man of many names and I believe I have used them all. ;)

He is Estel to his family and close friends, Aragorn to those who knew him during the War of the Ring and to the Dúnedain Rangers and Elessar to the people of his Kingdom.

****

I have tried my best to get the Elvish words and phrases right, but if you do find an error, please let me know.

Words/phrases that are not translated directly in the text can be found at the end.

**Special A/N:** Above and beyond all, I would like to thank my best friend Phil for her inspiration and patience and for reading and re-reading all my drafts over and over again. Hannon le, muinthel-nîn!

* * *

  


CHAPTER 1

Winter was finally retreating from the realms of Middle-earth and the milky sunlight gained more warmth with every passing day.

On a few extremely sunny patches spring blooms were peeking through the frozen earth, first signs of yellow, pink and green amidst the endless white.

None of this beauty was seen though by the solitary figure standing in a snow-covered glade, bow raised, arrow notched – frozen.

With barely the slightest movement of the man's fingers the arrow flew across the glade and struck it's target true. Well almost.

Shaking his head Estel, youngest son of Lord Elrond of Rivendell, retrieved his arrow and stared hard at the trunk of the tree he had selected as a mark.

He had missed the broken branch by mere inches, and yet he had missed.

"I swear you become more of an Elf with each passing day." A soft voice behind the young man spoke, yet it did not startle him for he was well versed in detecting even the soft footfall of Elves.

Estel turned around, smiling at the man whom he loved more dearly than anybody else. "Ada. Have you come to spy on me?" He walked towards Lord Elrond, retrieving his discarded cloak in passing.

Elrond smiled fondly at his youngest. The boy had grown fast, much faster in fact than Elves did, but then again Estel was no Elf.

Today was the boy's twentieth birthday, he was now no longer a child according to the count of humans. And it was true, Estel had matured much in the last few years.  
The time had finally come…

"Walk with me, ion-nîn." Laying an arm across the lean yet muscular shoulders Elrond started walking back towards the house.

After a few minutes of walking in silence Estel could stand it no longer, his father's face was tense and something seemed to bother the Elf Lord.

"Has something happened?" Estel asked concerned. Somehow he felt that something was amiss.

Elrond looked at his son, dark blue eyes searching silver ones, and shook his head. "Nothing has happened, but I wish to talk to you. You are a grown man now."

Estel's brow furrowed but anything he would have liked to reply was cut off by a motion of his father's hand. "We will not talk here. In my study we have all the privacy required."

Wondering as to what could be so important that it had to be spoken of in private the young human did as he was asked and silence descended once more on father and son.

* * *

  


The study was a large, sunny room filled with books, memorabilia and odd bits of weaponry that the Lord of Imladris held dear even after laying down his sword many millennia ago.

Estel had always loved this room, he had many fond memories of lying on the thick rug before the fire and playing with his toys or reading in one of the books.

But never was he happier than sitting on his father's lap as a child and listening to the Elven Lord tell the most breathtaking tales.

Today though Estel did not feel any of the comfort the familiar surroundings usually offered and sat down in one of the large overstuffed chairs pensively, watching Elrond look out of the large picture-window that offered a view of the deep gorge Imladris had been built into.

Growing up as a human amongst an immortal race such as the Elves had taught Estel above all one thing – patience.

So he waited. When he was ready Elrond would talk.

"Estel, do you remember that day many summers ago when you asked me who your human parents were?" Elrond took a seat opposite his son, looking at the youngster and trying to gauge his feelings.

"Aye," the younger man answered, wondering what prompted his father to mention that subject. "But you told me that I was too young and that in time I would learn all about them."

Elrond nodded. "And today is that day when you shall learn. You are twenty years old and I deem that that is high time I told you all about your heritage."

Estel's eyebrows rose in surprise. He had always believed that that particular subject caused his father great pain and had therefore never mentioned it again.

Perhaps he had avoided it because his true family was here, in Imladris, no matter whom he had to thank for giving him life.

"Do you remember the day you came here?" Elrond watched his son carefully, noting the way his dark, wavy hair fell into his face that had already lost some of the childish roundness. The silver eyes watching the Elf spoke of a soul much older than mere twenty years and reminded him much of Isildur, Estel's forefather.

"Nay. I don't remember much of my early childhood." Estel admitted somewhat sheepishly.

"No, of course." Elrond smiled. "You were barely two years old when your parents were slain by Orcs. Elladan and Elrohir were there when it happened, though they were unable to stop the killings." Sighing deeply the Elf Lord continued. "You were one of very few that survived the carnage and your brothers deemed it best to bring you here, for they knew the danger you were still in."

"Danger?" Estel watched his father, saw the shadows of memories deep within his dark blue eyes. He had not known that it was Elladan and Elrohir, Lord Elrond's twin sons, that had brought him here.

Elrond nodded. "Yes, you were still in danger, for you are the last descendant of Isildur. Your father was Arathorn, Son of Arador, and you my son are Aragorn, the last Heir to the Throne of Gondor and Arnor."

Estel's jaw dropped and ice seemed to form in the pit of his stomach. That was impossible…

"It cannot be!" No longer able to sit still Estel started pacing the room, trying to make sense of what he had just heard. "Ada…" Huge silver eyes looked forlornly at the Elf.

"Oh my Estel." Elrond stood and pulled the human in a tight embrace, giving him something to hold onto. "I am so sorry, but you had to be told."

"Arathorn was the Chieftain of the Dúnedain Rangers of the North. He was a good man and both he and your mother Gilraen were so happy when you were born." The Elven Lord continued. "Elladan and Elrohir had always been friends to the Rangers, riding with them for long periods of time, and it was no different when Arathorn was appointed Chieftain. He was a good man, Estel."

Holding his son at arm's length Elrond looked into a face that at the moment seemed too young for the burdens he was placing on the shoulders of the young human.

"Do you understand what I am telling you, ion-nîn? *You* are the last of Isildur's descendants, the only one who has within him the power to destroy the Dark Lord of Mordor. It is him we had to hide you from, for Sauron fears you. He would have hunted you all your life."

Panic flashed in the depths of the silver gaze and Estel pulled away from the man whom he had loved as a father as long as he could remember.

All he had heard, all he had learned about himself was too much.

Spinning on his heel he fled from the room and headed for the refuge of the gardens and the woods beyond.

He needed to get out, to breathe. He felt like he was suffocating, he couldn't get his lungs to expand properly.

Brushing past a figure in the hallway Estel jumped down the steps taking two at a time and barely registering Elladan calling his name.

The cold air felt good on his face as he ran over the snow-covered ground into the woods surrounding Imladris.

In the distance the constant rushing of the Bruinen – the Loudwater River – could be heard. It was the only sound besides his laboured breathing for a storm was gathering and weighed heavily on the air.

He could not remember how long he had been running when he finally collapsed against the trunk of a tree that grew near the lake in which he and his brothers often bathed in summer.

Now the lake was just beginning to thaw, a thin membrane of ice still covered most of its dark surface.

His brothers…

Estel leaned his head against the tree and stared up into the bare branches. Hot tears rushed down his cheeks but he didn't bother to wipe them away.

Of course he had known that he was not truly Elrond's son and it didn't bother him that much anymore, not as it had when he was still a child. Back then he had deemed himself unworthy of being called a Son of Elrond because he was not as agile or graceful as an Elf, because he was more susceptible to illness and injuries.

"Aragorn…" He whispered his true name, a name he didn't remember ever being called.

Descendant of Isildur. Heir to the throne of Gondor. Dúnadan. Númenórean.

He had heard many a tale of Isildur's destruction of Sauron and of the One Ring of Power that Isildur hat failed to destroy, letting evil prevail.

Estel had always labelled Isildur weak of will for bending to the power of Mordor and it did not sit well with him that he was directly descended from the one man who could have rid Middle-earth of the shadow that even now started to spread again.

Laying his head on his arms that were crossed over his knees and ignoring the cold that seeped through the thin material of his leggings and tunic Estel gave in to the heart-wrenching pain that still didn't let him breath and wept.


	2. Consequence

CHAPTER 2

Silent footfalls approached the huddled figure of the young human and a slender hand gently brushed a heaving shoulder.

Bleary, red-rimmed silver eyes snapped open, meeting those the colour of a summer sky and although he was still miserable to the bottom of his very soul Estel's lips quirked into a half-hearted smile when he saw who the intruder was.

"You father is very worried, Estel. You have been gone for quite some time." Golden hair spilled across the Elf's shoulders and contrasted starkly with the deep blue of his velvet cape as Glorfindel, friend and confidant of Lord Elrond, knelt before the boy who was as a nephew to him. "It is late. Will you come back with me?"

Estel shook his head. He could not go back. Nor did he want to.

"Estel…" Glorfindel removed his cloak and draped it around the shivering form of the human, whose dark-green tunic was soaked where it touched the ground. "Elrond has told me what happened. It was never easy for him to keep that secret, yet he did it for your sake."

"You knew?" The boys voice was strained, rough from crying and shaking slightly with fatigue.

"Aye. I knew." Glorfindel smiled at the memories. "I was the first to meet your brothers when they returned to Imladris with you after your parents had been killed." Millennia-old blue eyes glittered with mirth. "Unfortunately I was also the first in your father's fair realm to witness your fascination with Elven hair."

Not quite understanding what the Elf Lord was referring to he cast a questioning glance at the Eldar.

Glorfindel chuckled, pulling the youngster to his feet. "The first few weeks after your arrival you took to tangling your hands into everybody's hair. I swear I saw Elladan and Elrohir walking around with bald patches." He gazed at the young human, glad that a slight smile lighted the gaunt, pale face. "You were very much a little lord already, young Prince."

Estel moaned and shook his head as he followed the gently glowing form of Glorfindel down the steep path that lead back to the base of the gorge and into Imladris. Dusk had already fallen and the footing was quite precarious on the slick forest path.

"I do not wish for that title nor do I wish for any that my heritage might bring with it. Estel is my name and by that I shall ever be known to those I love." Speaking with authority was not easy when one's teeth were chattering, yet Estel found he managed quite well.

"Of course." Glorfindel's consenting tone hid the smile that crossed the Eldar's face. "You might not wish to be called by any of your titles, but it would be unwise to deny them from yourself." The Elf stopped briefly and waited for the boy to catch up. "Accepting your heritage will not be easy and it is something only you can decide to do. Make your choice wisely, take your time."

Estel nodded. The Eldar was one of his most trusted friends and he knew that the other spoke the truth.  
They walked in silence as dusk waned into night and snow started to fall in thick, steady flakes, making the lights of Imladris look ever more inviting.

* * *

  


When Estel entered his room he was surprised to find Lord Elrond sitting in the chair by his bed.

The Elf's face lit up as he saw his son returning safely and he nodded gratefully to Glorfindel who had followed the lad, expecting to find his old friend in the boy's room.

"Ada…" Estel spoke hesitantly, still clasping Glorfindel's cloak tightly around him for warmth.

"My son!" The second time that day Estel was pulled into a tight embrace.

Leaning his head wearily against his father's shoulder and inhaling the familiar scent of soap and herbs that always surrounded the Elf the young human sighed contentedly.   
"Forgive me ada, it was wrong to run away like that." Shivers wracked Estel's lean body as he stepped back from his father.

"There is nothing to forgive, ion-nîn." Elrond gently brushed a few wayward strands of black hair back from the young face looking at him. "But come now and stand by the fire." He handed Glorfindel's coat back to it's owner who accepted it with a smile and a slight bow and left the room.

To weary to object Estel dropped into the soft cushions of the chair Elrond had placed before the hearth and pried his boots off his freezing feet.  
"I have made a decision, ada." Estel grunted as the second boot did not come off immediately. 

Elrond watched his son, one eyebrow raised slightly at the boy's words. "Yes?"

Finally rid of the boot Estel leaned back in the chair and looked at the Elven Lord.  
"My heritage is something I cannot simply embrace, though I do accept it. All I ask of you is patience and time. What you told me today scares me and I do not know if I am ready to reveal myself to the world yet."

Smiling, the Elf Lord laid a hand on the young man's shoulder. "I do not ask you to reveal yourself Estel, for it is not yet time for the Heir of Isildur to make himself known. Nor do I wish for you to take on duties that have been neglected for many centuries. You shall remain simply Estel for some time yet, for you still have much to learn."

"Good." Estel nodded as a mischievous glint lit up his eyes. "At least I know now why you made me learn Adûnaic, for who but the descendants of Númenór would have need for the speech of Westernesse?" 

Elrond chuckled at his son's words. It was good to see the boy he had raised was not lost after all that had come to pass that day.  
"Celboril will be waiting with dinner, if you are not too tired perhaps you will join us? It is after all your birthday."

"Aye." Estel got to his feet. "I will be down presently, but first I would like to change into something dry."

"Of course." Elrond left the room and nearly collided with two identical young Elves that looked at him with equal expressions of surprise and concern.

"Elladan, Elrohir!" Elrond admonished, giving them what they had termed "the look". "Have you nothing better to do that hover before your brother's room?"

Elrohir at least had the decency to look ashamed as he spoke. "Forgive us, ada, but we were worried about Estel. It is his birthday and yet nobody has seen him all day."

"Estel had much to think about. He learned about his heritage today." The Lord of Imladris explained what had happened while he steered his sons down the large flight of stairs into the dining hall.

* * *

  


Estel entered the dining-hall and was surprised to see not only his family and the Elves that lived in Elrond's household assembled around the table but also a group of rather scruffy looking humans who were deep in conversation with the Elves.

Lingering in the doorway Estel watched the scene for a few minutes, noting the way Elladan and Elrohir in particular seemed to enjoy the humans' company.

"Ah, Estel, you've finally come to join us." Elrond smiled as the young man stepped closer, still a little wary of the strange company.

Noting his son's hesitation the Elf Lord indicated the man nearest to him, who had gotten to his feet and smiled at Estel. "This is Halbarad, a Dúnedain Ranger of the North and kinsman of your father Arathorn."

"Greetings Lord Aragorn," Halbarad spoke, bowing slightly before the younger man. "It is with great joy that we received Lord Elrond's message that the Son of Arathorn lives." His deep voice was soft and held genuine joy in it.

"My greetings, Halbarad and my thanks for your kind words," Estel replied somewhat awkwardly and took his seat at his father's side. "But tell me," He turned to face the older man, "what brings the Dúnedain to Imladris on this day?"

Halbarad smiled broadly but it was Elrond who answered.  
"*You* are the reason their for being here, Estel, for you are rightfully the Chieftain of the Dúnedain." The Elf Lord hurried to continue when he saw his son's face darken. "Halbarad has been holding that position since your father's death and I am sure he will do so for a while longer until you are ready."

The Ranger nodded his affirmative, Elrond had already talked to him about Estel's hesitancy to accept who he was, but even without the Elven Lord's words Halbarad would not have expected the young man to join them immediately.

Estel contemplated his father's words for a few minutes, far to aware of the fact that all of the assembled were waiting in silence for his answer.  
Finally he smiled. "I am very honoured that you made such a long journey on my account and I would very much wish for you to remain the Chieftain, for you know the Dúnedain and the duties of a Ranger and I do not."

Halbarad nodded an raised his goblet, a motion followed by the others present. "To Aragorn!"

The younger man blushed slightly but smiled at the well-meant toast.

Cheers rose throughout the hall, the silence was broken. It was time for the merry-making to begin.

* * *

  


The sky in the east was already paling when Estel finally stumbled into his room and dropped onto his bed, not bothering to undress or pull back the coverlet.  
He was already drifting into the darkness of sleep when he felt the presence of another in his room. Turning his head slightly and prying his eyes open he saw the faces of Elladan and Elrohir smiling at him.

Elladan spread a comforter over his human brother. "The nights are chilly yet."

Mumbling his thanks Estel expected them to leave, a frown furrowing his brow when they failed to do so.  
"What?" He demanded, too tired to form whole sentences.

"Do you truly believe that you will have to bear all your burdens alone?" Elrohir stretched out next to Estel, ignoring the human's protests.

Silver eyes turned to meet the Elven twin's gaze. "You have burdens of your own. I cannot ask anybody to share what my heritage demands of me."

Sighing meaningfully Elladan stretched out on Estel's other side. "You are and always will be a Son of Elrond."

Estel's heart warmed at the words that were spoken so naturally yet he was not entirely certain what his brother meant.

Seeing the human's quizzical look Elladan pushed up on his elbow and smiled, his gaze briefly flickering to his twin.  
"No matter what comes, muindor-nîn, a Son of Elrond is never alone."

Overwhelmed by the sincerity he could see in the two pairs of dark blue eyes Estel nodded thankfully, relief flooding through him and lifting all worries from his heart. "Hannon le." 

Elladan lay down and stared at the intricately carved ceiling. "Someday, if you wish, I shall tell you about Arathorn…" he mused, but Estel was already asleep before he had finished his sentence.

Elrohir too lay facing his brothers, his eyes half lidded and glazed in sleep.

Spreading the comforter over all three bodies Elladan finally fell asleep himself – just as the first rays of sun crept over the peaks of the Misty Mountains and bathed the wintry world in cool new light.

* * *

  


Elvish translations:

Adar/ada = father/dad(dy)

Ion-nîn = my son

Muindor-nîn = my brother

Hannon-le = thank you


End file.
